


violent delights

by moonysiriusly



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguments, Emotionally Repressed, Everyone Is Gay, M/M, enjorlas is bossy, epo, gays, grantaire is a doormat, marius isn't shocked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 06:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonysiriusly/pseuds/moonysiriusly
Summary: domestic life for grantaire and enjorlas is hard- living with enjorlas is draining and grantaire worries about keeping his feelings secret.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> im tired  
> i have lots of emotions   
> its 7:30am and im feeling gay
> 
> v

**Again?**

Grantaire glares towards the door as the aggressive knocking fails to cease.  
"JEE, THE DOOR!" He shouts towards the stairs, filing his work away in a flurry. He shakes his head as he hears the aggressive thumping and clattering of Enjorlas falling out of bed and sprinting down their wooden stairs, not giving Grantaire a second look as he eagerly pulls the package from the exhausted postman.   
  
"Thanks." Enjorlas smirks, winking as the postman and aggressively slamming the door in one quick motion. Grantaire sighs, placing his hands on his hips and staring at his far-too-excited room mate. The excited bundle of red fur dressing-gown and mismatched socks bounds into the living room, throwing himself onto the leather sofa and staring up at Grantaire from the pile of cushions.   
  
"Morning, taire." Enjorlas grins, ignoring the aggressive stare of his best friend as he tears the package open. Grantaire groans, running a hand through his tousled brunette curls and throwing himself onto the nearest sofa.   
  
"You need to stop ordering packages, Enj. We have shops, you know. I swear, you're the only person who the postman delivers to round here." Enjorlas grins at Grantaire's sharp tone, pulling his newly aquired prize from the box.   
  
"It's a toast....thing." Enjorlas starts, pulling apart the different layers of plastic underneath Grantaire's disaproving stare. "You can print designs onto toast, you know." The blonde bites his lip to hide his smile as he hears Grantaire's exaggerated sigh echo through the room. 

"I'm glad I stopped working for you to show me a piece of plastic you can press into bread. Maybe you can press one into your toast that reads 'I'm a prick and Grantaire is a saint for dealing with me.' The brunette smiles through his annoyance, kissing the top of Enjorlas' head to soften the truth behind his sudden rant. Enjorlas smiles, patting Grantaire's thigh in a solemn apology. 

"I don't think there's enough room for that sen-" Enjorlas starts, giggling as his words are stalled by the heavy pillow hurtling towards his face.   
  
"I'll speak to you later, when my work is done. Not about this stupid fucking....toast....slicer, though." Grantaire offers a smile to Enjorlas, eagerly closing the door and ridding himself of the image of the adorable blonde man buried in their kitsch rainbow pillows. He sighs a deep, shaky sigh and walks back to his office, resting back on his distressed office chair. 

"Don't be an idiot, Grantaire. He's straight. He's....straight." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i cant stop writing about these domestic 'heterosexual' friends   
> in this chapter they literally have such a petty argument  
> may or may not be based on a true mistake i made
> 
> v

**Grantaire loved Enjorlas. He did. However, one thing he despised was the man's inability to admit his mistakes.**

"Enj, India isn't a continent." Grantaire groans as Enjorlas aggressively scrolls through wikipedia, his tongue between his teeth as he focuses on the paragraphs of geographical nonsense on the screen. The argument started because of a stupid board game five hours ago, the pair hadn't moved from their slumped over position on Enjorlas' bed since the blonde had discovered that his answer was incorrect.

"I'm telling you, Taire. It's a continent!" His pale pink lips twitch into a slight smirk as he hears Grantaire give a yelp of frustration as his inability to give up on his point. By now, Enjorlas knew well and truly that he had messed up. Geography was never his strong suite, he was a theatre kid through and through. Who had time to memorise maps when you could stand on tables and be the center of attention? Not that he'd ever admit his defeat, he was  **far** too proud to give up now. If he couldn't prove India was a continent, he would make it a continent if it was the last thing he did. 

"I'm starving. We've been at this for three hours.Can you please, please just admit that you got the question wrong?" The brunette pouts, covering his face with one of the many pillows Enjorlas had taken his earlier stages of denial and frustration out on. Enjorlas coughs nervously, closing the lid of his laptop and collapsing against Grantaire's now shaking chest, the laughter rippling through his body.   
"It's fine, I'll make you spaghetti. If...." Grantaire starts, propping himself up on one elbow as he stares at the sulking blonde.   
"If you admit you're wrong." 

Enjorlas grimaces, throwing himself to his feet and folding his arms in an amalgamation of offense and anger. On one hand, he knew that Grantaire would never let him live down the fact he spent three hours researching India's history only to be proven wrong, Marius and Courfeyrac had already tweeted jokes about Enjorlas' awful Geography knowledge.

"Hey, babe." Enjorlas starts, shocking Grantaire slightly with the sudden niceties. He was a known flirt and the pet-names didn't shock Grantaire, every cashier and bar-tender in their area assumed that the two men were dating. Enjorlas was especially clingy after not seeing Grantaire for days, insisting on coming with him on his errands to talk about himself; just in case Grantaire had missed the blonde rambles about the latest show on Netflix or how he can't cook anything beyond toast and cup noodles. 

"What?" Grantaire grins, finally sitting up to meet Enjorlas' quizzical stare.

"Why do we care about countries and continents?" The blonde runs a hand through his hair, the curls springing back through his long fingers as he watches Grantaire study him, a frown forming on the brunettes face. "I mean, if the earth is fl-"

"Shut up. Shut up. I'll make you the goddamned spaghetti." Grantaire growls, pushing past Enjorlas in a gesture of amusement and irritation. The last thing he wanted was another lecture on the fact that the earth is not proven to be round. It was the same point every time he had to admit he was wrong. 

"I'm just saying!" Enjorlas laughs, following Grantaire into the kitchen and pressing his lips against the brunette man's shoulder. 

"Yeah, Enj. The flat-earth society has members all around the globe. You've told me." Grantaire grins as Enjorlas bites his tongue and rolls his eyes as the embarrassment begins to set in, his tanned skin flushing a soft rose. Grantaire grins, smacking Enjorlas' thigh with the nearest spatula before ushering him out of the kitchen.

"Flat-earth theory." He whispers to himself, aggressively chopping onions and trying his best to hide the permanent smile blossoming through his cheekbones. That man. 

 


End file.
